Chronicles of the DLO: Brazenly Manipulative
by drobin
Summary: This story covers the character thoughts and off-screen happenings of the third episode of Signed, Sealed, Delivered, "To Whom it May Concern". It follows my previous two stories in the Chronicles of the DLO series, "The Merry Mix-Up" and "Restoring Vivian". Please, read and review! Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own anything. All characters, dialogues, and plots that you recognize belong to the wonderfully talented Martha Williamson; I am just here for entertainment purposes. This is the third installment of my "Chronicles of the DLO" series that sort of fills in the blanks for us in each episode and film of Hallmark's "Signed, Sealed, Delivered". This story, "Brazenly Manipulative", chronicles the thoughts and off-scene happenings of the third episode in the series, "To Whom it May Concern", beginning a few weeks prior to that episode.**

 **I have changed one small thing, however. On screen, when the POstables are at the college about to meet Samila, there is a board documenting events during graduation week that places the timeline of this episode in May 2014. However, since we know the Pilot takes place in June and this episode is only a few weeks or a month later (it is the first "last day of the month" Shane has had to work with the Impossibly Ripped and Mangled box, after all), I set the beginning of the episode at the end of July. Please, as always, read and review. Thanks and enjoy!**

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July 5, 2014

5:30 PM

 _Shane unlocked the door to her home and stepped inside, allowing her co-workers to enter. Once Oliver had moved past her with the bags of Chinese food, she closed the door and followed him to the kitchen at the back of the house, where he had placed the bags on the counter and was beginning to unload them, setting her purse on the floor along the way. She set her own grocery bag on the counter and pulled out the beverages inside, handing a water to Rita, a Coke to Norman, a YooHoo to Oliver, and placing her Snapple Peach Tea in front of herself._

 _They ate and chatted about the different things Shane wanted done in the home. Once they had finished eating, Norman went to place their garbage bags at the front door to be taken with them when they left. He didn't pay attention, however, when returning to the kitchen._

 _"Oh, Norman!" Shane warned him. "Watch out for my—"_

 _Too late, Norman stumbled over the strap of her purse, tipping it over and sending him hurling at the wall._

 _"—purse," she finished lamely as he hit the molding along the top edge of the paneling and fell backwards to the floor. A whoosh and a cracking sound caught the attention of Oliver, who looked up in time to see a portion of the paneling along the wall pop open._

 _"Ms. McInerney," he began, helping Norman up. "I believe our colleague has stumbled upon the entrance to your secret room."_

 _"Literally," Shane murmured in agreement, picking up her purse and following Oliver to the hidden door._

 _"Oh, my goodness, Shane!" Oliver breathed as he gently pushed the door inwards and entered the room. "This is amazing!"_

 _"What is it?" she asked, stepping in behind him. "Oh, wow!"_

It was a library. Fully furnished, with floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with books. A thick layer of dust covered every surface, indicating that the room had been forgotten about for some time.

"How long do you think this has been here, unused?" Rita asked, glancing around.

"It must have been at least since the previous owners moved in," Oliver informed her, heading to one of the shelves and selecting a volume. Wiping the dust off the spine with his pocket square, he observed, "I highly doubt they would have left this room here undisturbed as it is if they had known of it."

"The furniture is amazing," Shane commented, studying an intricately-carved settee sitting below a window. "1910s, maybe 1920s by the looks of this piece."

There was a fireplace in the center of the wall opposite the door that corresponded to the short chimney that Shane had seen outside earlier that day, and the walls were made of mahogany shiplap, that Shane figured probably shone beautifully when the room was properly cleaned.

"What's behind that door?" Norman asked, gesturing to a door between two bookshelves on one of the walls.

"That's a good question, Norman," Shane replied, heading over that way. "Isn't this wall right next to the half-bath?"

"I believe so, Ms. McInerney," Oliver affirmed, glancing at her.

Shane opened the door and gasped when she stepped inside. "Oliver, come here!" she called, laughing.

Oliver hurried over. "What is it?" he inquired, entering the room.

"It's a bathroom," she laughed. "Straight out of _Downton Abbey_!" There was a ceramic canopy shower/bath combo set into a mahogany frame inlaid with decorated metal squares, a ceramic pedestal sink under a mirrored medicine cabinet, and a toilet with a high level, chain-flush wooden cistern.

"I don't know what _Downton Abbey_ is, Ms. McInerney," he admitted. "But this convenience is circa the First World War, at least."

The two exited the bathroom in time to see Rita stifling a yawn. "As much as I would like to stay and explore your newly-discovered library some more, Ms. McInerney," Oliver broached. "It has been a busy week and we have work tomorrow. Let's head to our homes and we will reconvene in the morning for breakfast?"

Once back in the main living area of the house, Shane went to the wall Norman had run into when he had tripped over her purse. She examined the molding carefully, finally noticing a decorated circle that was indented slightly. She ran her fingers over it, noticing that it felt like a spring-release button, so she pushed it. Sure enough, the circle popped back out, flush with the rest of the molding, and the hidden door swung shut, closing softly but securely.

The four left the home, Shane locking up behind them, and within thirty-five minutes, Oliver was pulling up outside his own ancestral home, having just dropped Shane off a few minutes before.

 _One thing is for certain, Lord,_ he thought idly. _Life with Ms. McInerney around is anything but dull! Imagine finding a fully-stocked, fully-furnished library that nobody was aware existed!_

As he entered his home, he heard his telephone ringing. Wondering who would possibly be calling him at 8:30 on a Sunday night, he hurried to pick up the handset in the kitchen.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Oliver, it's Shane," came the hesitant response.

"Ms. McInerney? Are you alright?" he demanded, suddenly afraid something had happened after he had dropped her off at her hotel.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, Oliver," she assured him. "I just…wanted to ask you a favor."

"Go on," he insisted. "What is it?"

"Would you be willing…to help me catalog the library?" she requested. "It's just, there are a _lot_ of books there, and knick-knacks. I saw a ledger and a journal of some sort when I was examining the desk…" her voice trailed off.

"I would be very happy to help you, Ms. McInerney," he responded warmly. "We can begin, perhaps, after we tackle some of the harder projects in your home. And, despite the fact that I said we can do the repairs ourselves, you may want to call an electrician and a plumber just to ensure that everything in that library and convenience is working as it should."

After a few more minutes of chatting, he and Shane hung up and he noticed the little blinking light on the machine. Taking a few deep breaths, he hit the Play button.

" _Oliver? Hi, it's Dale. I was just calling to check in on you since you weren't at church this morning. We missed you in the choir. Call me so I know you're OK, alright?_ "

Automatically he dialed her number, apologized for worrying her and letting her know that everything was fine, but that he had had some things to do that day with his colleagues before exchanging good-nights with the titian-haired cop and hanging up. At this point in the night it was after nine and Oliver was exhausted, so he locked up, turned out the lights, and headed up to his bed.

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 **A/N: Well, there it is! Short, I know, but I had intended it to be since I was just finishing out the last chapter of the previous story. Let me know what you think! This story will not follow my previous pattern of doing one chapter for each day of the episode, since we are beginning so far before the episode actually begins, so these first few chapters will sort of skip days at a time. In fact, the next chapter will take place the following weekend.**


	2. Kitchen Renovations

**A/N: I don't own anything but my own imagination; everything you recognize comes from the brilliant mind of Martha Williamson. We are skipping ahead a few days from the last chapter, so we are now on Saturday, July 11. The POstables are still working on Shane's new home, with Oliver and Shane concentrating their efforts in the library. There will also be a little retail therapy for new furnishings.**

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Saturday, July 11, 2014

6:30 AM

Shane was just putting the finishing touches on her make-up for the day when her phone rang. Glancing at the display, she sighed and picked up the phone. _He was bound to call sooner or later,_ she thought. _Might as well get it over and done with._

Taking one more deep breath, she slid the "Answer" button right on her phone and placed the device to her ear. "Hello, Steve," she answered, grabbing her purse and heading out of the bedroom. "You just discovered I wasn't at my townhouse?" she responded to his inquiry. "We were supposed to go out _two weeks_ ago and you are _just_ _ **now**_ getting around to finding out why I didn't show? Oh, of course. You got busy with work. No, we can't go out tonight. Because I don't live there anymore. Washington. In Denver. Yes, Denver, Colorado…is there any other Denver? I was transferred. For work. No, we can't go out tomorrow, either…transferred, remember? Oh. You want to fly – to Denver – to take me out to dinner? I…suppose so. Fine. Tomorrow, then. Goodbye."

 _Becky was absolutely right about him,_ Shane acknowledged ruefully. _Definitely more devoted to his job than to me._ Sighing in exasperation, Shane slid the phone into her purse, made sure she had her computer and chargers, grabbed her keys, and left the suite. Deciding she preferred to burn off some excess frustration, she elected to take the stairs rather than the elevator. As she stepped off the last step and turned toward the front door, she pulled her keys out of her purse, looked up and saw…Oliver, parked in front of the door and leaning against the passenger side of his Jaguar.

Feeling her frustration melt away, she smiled wryly and approached her boss. "How do you always know when I need a friend to show up?" she asked as she came within hearing distance.

"I have a greater Friend than I who tells me these things," he responded cheekily, opening the door for her. "I thought we'd go out for breakfast before heading to your house. We'll pick up Norman and Rita and decide where to go eat."

"I already had a thought in mind for that…I was actually going to head there now before meeting you all at my house." As Oliver slid into the driver's seat, she added, "A place called Snooze? GPS says it's in the Cherry Creek neighborhood not far from my house."

"What kind of fare do they offer?" he replied, exiting the driveway and pulling into traffic.

Scrolling through the menu options, she smiled. "Breakfast and lunch. Looks like mainly egg entrees, benedicts, pancakes, plus a lighter menu."

"Well, Ms. McInerney," he chuckled, "if our colleagues are amenable, then to Snooze we shall go."

As it turned out, both Rita and Norman were more than willing to try out Shane's suggestion, and within half an hour the group was entering the restaurant.

"Wow, everything sounds great!" Rita exclaimed as she read over the menu. Placing the menu down on the table, she stood up. "You know what? I think I am just going to use the women's convenience. Please excuse me."

"I'll come with you," Shane offered, pushing back her chair. "We'll be right back."

Just after the ladies had left, the waitress came up to take their drink orders. "I will have a cup of drip coffee." Norman requested, "and she," pointing to Rita's chair, "will have a black tea."

"Cream and sugar?" the waitress asked.

"No, thanks."

Oliver glanced up at the waitress. "I will take an americano, if I may, and she," pointing to Shane's chair, "will have a skinny vanilla latte."

"Would you like cream or sugar for your americano?" she inquired.

"Oh, no, neither, thank you," Oliver replied. The waitress scribbled down their requests and hurried back behind the bar. When she returned a few minutes later with their beverages, the ladies returned from the restroom.

"Thank you," Shane said to Oliver, gesturing to the mug.

"It is your turn, Ms. McInerney," Oliver grinned, pushing the menu towards her.

Chuckling softly, Shane shook her head as she glanced through the menu. "What about splitting a BRAVOcado Toast, but adding salmon lox to the plate, and a side of fruit?" she suggested.

"Sounds perfect," he answered as the waitress returned to take their orders.

"May I get Goldilocks' Porridge and a single Juan's Breakfast Taco with wild mushrooms?" Rita requested.

"And for you?" she looked at Norman as she nodded in response to Rita's question.

"Oh, the Spuds Deluxe, please, with barbacoa and sausage," Norman answered promptly, folding his menu up and placing it on the table in front of him.

"And we will split the BRAVOcado Toast with added salmon lox and a side of fruit, please," Oliver requested, handing the menu back to the waitress, who collected the rest from Rita.

"And an extra plate," Shane added, smiling.

Once the waitress had left again with their orders, Oliver turned to Shane. "So, Ms. McInerney, what is on our agenda for today?"

"Well," Shane began, pulling out her tablet and bringing up her list of To-Do's. "The electrician and the plumber have both completed their work bringing the Edwardian library and bathroom up to code as well as checking the rest of the house, and we have completed all the minor updates that the building inspector told me about, so now it's mainly cosmetic stuff: paint, wallpaper, refinishing the floors, updating the kitchen and bathrooms, landscaping, etc."

"And the library and turning the mudroom back into a foyer," Norman reminded her.

"Those are here, too," Shane nodded, gesturing to the tablet.

"Norman and I can start in the kitchen if you two want to start in the library," Rita offered. "The new counters are coming this afternoon so we can get the new cabinets installed, the walls painted, and the backsplash put in. I already know what else Shane wanted done in the house, anyway."

A few minutes later, the waitress returned with their breakfasts and the remainder of their conversation was spent discussing Shane's chosen color schemes.

By eight-thirty, Oliver had paid the bill and the group had driven to Shane's home. Norman and Rita headed into the kitchen, Norman fetching the paint for the kitchen from the utility room and Rita opening the boxes for the backsplash tiles. Oliver gestured for Shane to precede him to the wall where the hidden doorway to the library was and pressed the button on the paneling as he followed behind her, opening the door. She pushed the door completely open and placed her purse on a table near the door.

"Well, Ms. McInerney," Oliver began hesitantly. "How would you like to begin cataloging your collection?"

Shane headed to the desk. "Why don't we go through this," she held up the ledger she had seen the previous week when they had discovered the library, "and check off everything as we find it? If there is an item here that is not listed, we can add it in."

"Will you have any of these things appraised?" he asked, heading to the nearest bookshelf.

"All of it," she nodded. When he jerked his head up in surprise, she elaborated. "I'm not an expert, but a lot of the items here look authentic. Not only do I wish to verify my suspicions, but I also want to track down the original owners of the home. I want to see if they meant to sell all these things with the home, since it doesn't seem as if the most recent owners even knew of this room's existence."

"No, it certainly does not, does it?" he agreed, then processed what she had told him. "You intend to give it back, don't you?"

"If they didn't intend to sell it, or if their relatives want it, then yes," she insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"You amaze me, Ms. McInerney." He shook his head. _Lord,_ he prayed, _I do not believe I will ever understand this woman. She purchased this home outright – everything within it and upon the grounds belong to her free and clear – and she is willing to hand an entire fortune of literary and artistic treasures back. She is correct, it is the right thing to do, but what person in a thousand would give away something like this? I pray You work this out the way You wish it done, Lord. If the original owners or their relatives want the contents of this library back, I will myself assist Ms. McInerney to disassemble this room and ship the contents, then help her to rebuild her own literary sanctuary. If, however, they do not wish it or they intended to sell this room as it was, then help her to enjoy it, Lord. I know she is a reader; I have seen the evidence of that myself from the few books she brought to the events of Independence Day weekend last week. I believe she would get great use out of this room, Lord, if it works out that she may keep it. She is still saddened by the situation surrounding her father's death, and now there is some issue with her mother that I feel she is keeping from me, so I pray this room provides a restorative to her soul. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen._

"Let's start with the books," Shane suggested, pulling Oliver from his silent prayers and grabbing the ledger and opening it to the appropriate page. "It looks like this wall," she pointed to the one behind her, that bordered the living/dining room," is all non-fiction, and the other three walls are all fiction. They are then subdivided alphabetically by genre, author's last name, and finally, title."

"Seems straightforward enough," Oliver replied, heading the non-fiction wall. "Shall we start here?"

Shane smiled, nodding. "First genre: Art," she announced, grinning.

" _Interaction of Color_ by Josef Albers, published in 1963," he offered, pulling the book down, wiping it with a dust cloth and placing it in one of the crates they had brought in to hold the books while they cleaned the library.

"Check," Shane replied, making a note in the ledger that the book was accounted for. "Next?"

" _Gardner's Art Through the Ages by Helen Gardner,_ " Oliver read, pulling the book off the shelf and opening it to the title page. "Published in 1926."

"Got it!" Shane stated, ticking it off on her list.

" _Noa Noa: The Tahitian Journal_ by Paul Gauguin, 1901 edition," Oliver moved on, repeating the actions from the first book.

"Check," Shane answered, finding the title on her list and marking it off.

They worked steadily for the next five hours, making their way through Art, Autobiographies, Biographies, Cookbooks, Diaries, Dictionaries, and Encyclopedias. They were just about to begin Guides when Rita popped her head in.

"Um, guys?" she hedged. "Can we stop for a bit? Norman's hungry, and honestly, so am I. Plus, the counter guys are just arriving."

"Oh, my goodness, Ms. McInerney!" Oliver exclaimed, checking his grandfather's pocket watch. "It's nearly two! Of course, Rita, we will stop for lunch." He covered the crates he had filled with a sheet, Shane placed the ledger in her bag and picked it up, and the two followed Rita out to the living room, Oliver pressing the button in the molding to close the library door in order to safeguard the contents just as the doorbell rang, announcing the men who had come to install the countertops.

"Rita, Norman, this looks fantastic!" Oliver stated about the work done in the kitchen, as Shane went to answer the door. The beige walls were accented by the gold, tan, and white backsplash that covered most of the walls behind the cook and prep areas and were accented by the sage green cabinets that matched the island that had been installed the previous day. The lower cabinets were solid panels, with decorative square columns separating each unit; the uppers had windowed panels, and there was a slotted area for plates, as well as a columned stovetop surround disguising the fume hood. The sinks had also both been installed the previous day: a large ceramic farmhouse sink on the island as well as a smaller bronze sink on one side of the counter.

Shane led the workers into the house and to the back area where the kitchen was. "We'll be out of your way for the next few hours," she announced to the supervisor of the four-man crew. "We're just going to grab something to eat, then will be out running errands. We should be back by six or so."

"Take your time," he replied. "It'll take us at least four hours to install all the counters for the kitchen as well as for the bathrooms."

Oliver looked at Shane, a silent question in his raised eyebrows. She shook her head imperceptibly. "OK, great. Thanks a lot! See you later!" She ushered Oliver, Norman, and Rita out the door, shutting it behind her.

"Alright, Ms. McInerney," Oliver demanded, opening the passenger-side door for her. "What are you not telling us? Why are they not installing countertops for the library convenience as well as all the others in your home?"

"Besides the fact that there are thousands upon thousands of dollars' worth of priceless antiquities in the library?" she countered. "Because the bathroom in the library is practically brand new; it's never been used and is in pristine condition. I want to keep it in the style it is in currently and that would be hard to do if I had to replace everything."

"Point taken." He slid into the driver's seat and turned to the group.

"Where are we going for lunch, by the way?" Shane asked.

"I know a place," Oliver replied, turning the key in the ignition and pulling away from the curb. A few minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of an upscale-looking eatery called Hillstone. "I come here sometimes on my weekends…Sunday evening dinner, usually," he explained. "It's a little pricey, but the food is fantastic."

Entering the building, Shane was struck by the marriage of modern and traditional. There were leather booths and tables with stainless steel and leather chairs on casters, steel beams, large windows, a stone-hearth fireplace, and wood-paneled walls decorated with tapestries Shane recognized as Navajo.

The hostess led them to a booth in the back, placed their menus in front of them, and ran off to get their waters while they perused the menus.

"Really?" Shane laughed, glancing over the options. "Sushi and burgers?"

"Yes," Oliver answered, smirking. "Although, you and I will not be having either one this time."

 _This time?_ Shane thought. _Does he anticipate bringing me here again at some point in the future?_

"I believe it is my turn to choose," Oliver added, interrupting Shane's musings.

"You believe correctly," she agreed. "If you will excuse me, I just need to run to the ladies' room…the ink from the ledger." She held up her hands to show the faint smudges.

"I'll join you," Rita offered, standing up. To the gentlemen, she added, "Can you order me the Veggie burger?"

"Of course," Oliver agreed, as Norman nodded.

After the ladies had left, the waitress approached with their waters. "Can I get you all anything to drink?"

"Yes, we will share a bottle of your Viognier," Oliver replied promptly. "And four glasses. Also, I believe we are ready to order?" he raised his eyebrows to Norman, who nodded again.

"I will have the Flying Chicken platter," Norman responded, handing his menu to the waitress.

"She," Oliver began, reaching across the table to indicate Rita's seat, "will have the Veggie burger with a side of fries. And she and I," indicating the place next to him, where Shane's purse was, "will share the Crab Cake salad and a side of Tabbouleh. Oh, and an extra plate, and the Grilled Artichokes for the table."

The waitress nodded, scribbled down the orders, and ran off, returning shortly with the bottle of wine and four glasses. She poured out a small measure for Oliver to sample and approve before pouring four glasses and hurrying off again. Moments later, Shane and Rita returned to their seats as Oliver and Norman slid out of the booths.

"I believe I will use the convenience, as well," Oliver announced. "The dust from the books," he added as Shane nodded knowingly. Norman went with him as Shane took a sip of her wine. Curious, she picked up the bottle and studied it, nodding approvingly.

The gentlemen returned a few minutes later, followed shortly by the platter of artichoke halves and a creamy dipping sauce, as well as four small plates. They finished off the appetizer just as the waitress returned with their entrees. "The Veggie burger with fries," she stated, placing the plate in front of Rita. "The Flying Chicken platter," as she placed the platter in front of Norman. "And the Crab Cake salad and a side of Tabbouleh," placing the plates in front of Oliver. "And an extra plate," handing it to Oliver. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, thank you," Oliver replied. "This all looks fantastic." He cut the crab cake in half, sliding half the salad onto the extra plate, added half the tabbouleh and handed the plate to Shane before pushing the remaining half of the Tabbouleh onto the same plate as his half of the crab cake salad and placing the now-empty plate on the platter the artichokes had arrived on.

The four colleagues ate companionably for the next half hour, the waitress stopping by once to remove the empty plates in the center of the table and once to refill water glasses. After lunch, Shane paid the bill and they left.

"What are these errands we are running this afternoon?" Oliver asked curiously as he slid into the Jag.

"Well, Rita and I are going to do some shopping for my house…furniture shopping," she clarified at his look.

"Uh, Ms. McInerney," Oliver began. "I, uh, do not believe, uh, that I feel comfortable, um, purchasing…"

"Oliver," Shane sighed. _I_ _ **know**_ _that, Oliver!_ she thought amusedly. _I didn't say you were coming shopping with me, did I? I am aware that furniture shopping with a woman not your wife is not something you would ever be comfortable with._ "That's why I only said Rita and I were going shopping. I was hoping you and Norman could take this ledger," she pulled it out of her bag, along with a manila envelope Oliver had never seen, "and the photos I took of the library a few nights ago, to an appraiser to have them appraised. I have an address and a name for you, and they are expecting you." She fished the slip of paper out of her purse and offered it to him.

He accepted it slowly with a smirk and a sigh of relief. _Thank you, Lord,_ he offered, _that she appears to understand my reluctance in selecting such personal items with her, and that she does not appear to be offended by it. My assistance is hers as long as she needs it, but I cannot in good conscience do more._

"Where would you like me to drop you and Rita off, and how long do you think you'll need?" he asked.

She gave him the address of the store she had chosen and told him just to come back for her and Rita when they were done at the appraisers. "We'll make it work," she insisted. "If I need to, I'll come back another day and finish up."

He nodded encouragingly as she, Rita, and Norman exited the vehicle, Norman replacing Shane in the front passenger seat. The ladies waved as they turned and entered the store, Oliver waiting to see them safely through the door before restarting his car and pointing it in the direction of the appraiser's.

"Where do you want to start, Shane?" Rita asked once they were inside the store.

"Kitchen appliances," Shane answered promptly, chuckling ruefully at Rita's knowing smile. "Then living room furniture, I suppose, dining room furniture, a table for the breakfast nook in the back, then bedroom furniture – I want you to pick out the bedroom set for the spare bedroom on the left – and then I need to pick out laundry appliances and finally, patio furniture for the backyard. Things like décor and dishes and bedding can be purchased another day."

"Well, at least the library is fully furnished," Rita sighed.

"Oh, that reminds me: there is something I want to check for the library. It **is** fully furnished, but I want to see if something can be added," Shane added, finishing her list on her tablet. "Let's go!"

The ladies worked through Shane's list, shopping steadily for the next four hours. While Rita was picking out the furniture for the spare bedroom that Shane had already assigned to her for any occasion the brunette might have a need to crash at her place, Shane made her way to the salesperson who had been keeping track of their selections for delivery.

"Excuse me, Mike," she began.

"Shane," he smiled. "Have you and Rita completed your list yet?"

"No. Rita is still…well, she's picking out a bedroom set for the second spare bedroom. I have a question for you, however. I have a library in my home, and it is the only room that is currently fully-furnished. It's Edwardian-era…" She pulled out her tablet, showing him the photos on it that she had printed out for Oliver. She explained what she wanted and asked if it could be special ordered as she was perfectly aware there was nothing like it in stock.

"Let me just check on that," he answered when she had completed her description. He went to speak to his manager, who made a quick call, then returned back to her about five minutes later. "Okay, so we can do it, but in order to be able to have it delivered and installed on the same day as everything else you have chosen, we would need to get to your house, like, tomorrow, to take measurements," he explained.

"I have a dinner appointment tomorrow evening," she explained, "but can leave an hour earlier than necessary in order to be at the house while they are taking the measurements they need," she offered.

"And it will cost," he finished hesitantly. He handed her a piece of paper with a number on it. She nodded again. "Make it happen," she grinned.

Rita approached at that time, indicating the set she had chosen for the second bedroom. She and Shane finished the list off with the washer, dryer, and patio set just as they saw Oliver and Norman entering the store.

"Have you ladies finished?" Oliver inquired.

"We have," Shane grinned, heading to the cash register to have Mike ring up their selections. Since she didn't have a mortgage to worry about, and to avoid dipping into her nest egg or to pay high interest rates from financing her furniture purchases through the store, she had taken out a small home loan to float the cost. Paying for all her purchases in one lump sum had the added benefit that she had furnished her home at a discounted cost than she would have incurred by financing or purchasing items individually.

"Can we go eat?" Norman asked. "I'm starving."

"Can we get Italian?" Shane asked.

"Do you want a pizza, Ms. McInerney?" Oliver smirked, remembering the first meal he had shared with her. Had that only been less than three weeks ago? So many things had happened in a relatively short time.

At her emphatic nod, he chuckled knowingly. "Gaetano's is perhaps far, but there is Cucina Colore that is in this neighborhood?"

As the others agreed, they headed out.

Twenty minutes later, they were seated at the restaurant, perusing the menu. "Which pizza would you like, Ms. McInerney?" Oliver inquired knowingly.

"You know which one, Mr. O'Toole," she shot back laughingly. When the waitress approached with the bottle of wine Oliver had ordered, she asked if they were ready to order.

"Can I get the Wild Mushroom Ravioli?" Rita requested.

"And I would like the Penne," Norman added, handing both menus to the waitress, who turned her attention to Shane.

Oliver cleared his throat. "We will share the Tartufo pizza, and the Baked Goat Cheese and the Bruschetta for the table," he finished, handing his and Shane's menus to the waitress, who hurried off.

Later, after dinner, they headed back to Shane's house to inspect the installation of the countertops.

"Shane, this is amazing!" Rita breathed, taking in the effect of the white marble countertops against the green cabinets and beige and gold tones of the walls.

"This is a beautiful kitchen, Ms. McInerney," Oliver stated sincerely. They looked into the half-bath on the main floor and the master and guest baths upstairs before heading out. Oliver dropped Norman off first, followed by Rita, then headed in the direction of the Brown Palace.

"May I…join you for a nightcap in the lounge?" Oliver requested.

Sensing that he had a specific request to make, Shane agreed. They ordered their drinks once seated, then Shane turned to Oliver expectantly.

He slid the envelope across the table to her cleared his throat. "The, um…the appraisal is in there," he began. "That library is worth much more than we thought, Ms. McInerney. At least, Mr. Reynolds believes so; he will need to come and inspect the room to make an official appraisal. But if he is correct, and the furniture, art, books, and knick-knacks are originals (as we assume they are from the level of dust and the age of the home), then he estimates the value of that room to be somewhere between a quarter and a half million dollars," he voice dropped to a whisper as he stated the amount.

Shane's eyes went wide. "What?" she asked, pulling the papers out. Glancing at the appraisal, she could see it was fairly thorough for only having been accomplished through photos taken on her tablet and the descriptions in the ledger.

"I will invite him over sometime next week," she decided, placing the paperwork back into its folder and breathing deeply. "I wonder…would you mind if…" she hedged.

She didn't know how to phrase what she was asking, but she didn't have to – he knew. "Ms. McInerney," he stated warmly in low tones. "I would not be anywhere else. Anytime you need my assistance, for any reason, it's yours, no questions asked, remember?"

TWIMC TWIMC TWIMC TWIMC TWIMC TWIMC TWIMC TWIMC

 **A/N: Well, there it (FINALLY) is! Please, read and review! Also, I know some of you are wondering about the mysterious purchase she made for the library, and I promise it will be revealed in time! It is something I have been thinking about since my first story in this series and will tie in with my story covering "For Christmas" when I eventually get there. Your patience will be rewarded! There has been a lot of changes going on in my life…I'm moving cross country in a matter of weeks or months, changing jobs, meeting POstables, but I promise not to let four months go by before I update again! Up next: Sunday, another morning spent in her new home, and Shane's dinner with Steve at Montaldo's!**


	3. Steve

**A/N: Standard disclaimer applies: I still don't own anything but my own imagination. Everything you recognize from the series comes from the mind and imagination of Martha Williamson. This is the next day, Sunday. Shane will be working in her new home, then there will be the measurements for the library project Shane has requested from the furniture store, and finally Shane and Steve's date. Enjoy, and – as always – please read and review! Thank you!**

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Sunday, July 12, 2014

5:30 AM

Shane awoke the next morning with a pit in her stomach. _My date with Steve is tonight,_ she thought uneasily. Putting the thought out of her mind, she began getting ready for the day. Her phone rang just as she finished doing her hair.

"Hi, Rita," she answered after glancing at the display. "What's up? Yeah, I was just on my way to the house now; I was going to get some cleaning done in the kitchen and living room before the guy from the furniture store arrives this afternoon to take measurements in the library. I thought we hadn't chosen to meet today; Oliver mentioned he had missed last week's church service and didn't want to miss this week. Oh, I see. Well, in that case, you are more than welcome to join me. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes to pick you up, okay? Bye."

Shane took a last glance in the mirror, grabbed her keys, purse, and cell phone, and headed out the door. Exactly fifteen minutes later, she was pulling up outside Rita's apartment. The petite brunette was waiting at the curb for her and soon the two friends were pulling back into traffic.

"Thanks for picking me up," Rita stated once they had pulled away. "I just couldn't sit in my apartment all day, you know?"

Shane laughed. "Well, it's my pleasure. I'm glad to have the company, but in the interest of full disclosure, I don't intend to be at the house all day. I am meeting a friend tonight for dinner so I'll only be there until lunchtime, cleaning up, then I'll go get ready for dinner and head back to the house to meet the person taking measurements before meeting my…friend."

"You have a date?" Rita asked, dismayed that she hadn't been privy to such important information. She thought that she and Shane had become good friends over the last few weeks. "Oliver was right!"

"Is it hard to imagine I might have a date? Wait, Oliver was right about what? How does Oliver know I made plans for tonight?" Shane demanded.

Rita cringed slightly. "Well, I don't think he knew about this particular date, specifically, but…do you remember a couple weeks ago when you invited us over for dinner, and had me call Oliver to invite him but Oliver declined because he had already done his own shopping-"

"I remember, Rita," Shane interjected, smiling slightly at her friend's babbling. "What about it?"

Rita shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Oh. Well, it's just that, initially he declined because he thought you might have a boyfriend you wished to spend time with."

"I do have a boyfriend," Shane responded. "Of sorts." She pulled in a Starbucks drive-thru. "Can I get two Grande Skinny Vanilla Lattes and two Blueberry Scones, please?" she said into the speaker.

Once they had paid and received their order at the window, Rita returned to their previous conversation. "Of sorts?" she asked the blonde. "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means," Shane sighed, steering her rental car in the direction of her home. "That we've been seeing each other for a very long time and I still don't know where I stand with him."

"So he lives in Washington, DC?" Rita clarified. "He's not local?"

"I'm not even sure he's local to Washington," Shane admitted softly. "He travels – a lot – for work. I don't see much of him anymore."

"When was the last time? If you don't mind me asking," Rita inquired.

Shane chuckled. "I don't mind. It's nice to have a girlfriend to talk to." She sighed. "Let's see…the last time I saw him was before I moved to Denver, obviously, and before he had left town this last time. About three months, maybe?"

"Three MONTHS?!" Rita exclaimed. "Shane! But you've been keeping in contact with him, right?"

"Well, no, not really. We were supposed to have dinner when he came back to town, the Sunday after I moved. Obviously, that didn't work out."

"So he called you up to ask where you were, and invited you out here instead," Rita concluded.

"Well, yes," Shane hedged before slumping down slightly in concession of Rita's point. "He called me yesterday."

"Yesterday," Rita repeated. "But you've been in Denver for almost a month now."

Shane nodded knowingly. "I know."

"It sounds like you know exactly where you stand with him, Shane," Rita pointed out gently. "You just don't know what to do about the information. I think maybe – just maybe – it's time for you to start thinking about what _Shane_ really wants for her life instead of what everybody _else_ wants instead."

Shane pondered what Rita had said as she parked in front of her house.

 _I_ _ **do**_ _know what to do about the information,_ she thought. _I just don't know where to start._ As she and Rita began scrubbing the downstairs living spaces of her home, Shane pondered the coming evening and the various possible outcomes. She also began thinking about Rita's advice. _What_ _ **do**_ _I want in my life?_ She asked herself.

Suddenly, unbidden, a pair of kind, piercing, bright blue eyes popped into her vision. _Stop that, Shane,_ she scolded herself. _He's_ _ **married!**_ _Not to mention the fact that the two of you have absolutely_ _ **nothing**_ _in common!_ She mentally shook her head to clear it, closed her eyes, then stumbled backwards against her kitchen counter and fell to the floor when she opened her eyes to find those blue eyes actually in front of her.

"Oh, my goodness, Ms. McInerney!" Oliver exclaimed, coming around the island and extending his hand to assist her up after she fell. "Are you all right?"

"Oliver!" Shane replied, taking his outstretched hand and getting – a little unsteadily – to her feet. "I didn't hear you come in."

Oliver smirked. "Clearly. You were staring right at me, yet you may as well have been a thousand miles away. Your mind was obviously on something else." He raised his eyebrows in concern. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Shane glanced quickly at Rita to be certain she wouldn't say anything, but the pretty brunette wasn't even paying attention; she was cleaning the windows in the library and chatting with Norman. _Wait, Norman's here, too?!_ Shane thought, then returned to Oliver's gaze.

"Ms. McInerney?" he probed gently. "Are you still with me?"

"Huh?" she responded, then shook her head quickly. "I'm sorry, Oliver, my mind was wandering again. No, there isn't anything I want to talk about right now, but thank you for asking."

He continued to gaze at her steadily, then nodded briefly. "Very well. Just know that I am here for you should you ever feel the need to unburden yourself."

Shane laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you said you wanted to go to church today since you missed last week's service."

"I _did_ go to church today. The early service," he clarified when she glanced at her watch to check the time. "So I stopped by Norman's apartment on my way home and asked him if he would like to accompany me here to see if you could use any more assistance. We did knock, but, well, clearly you were meditating on something and didn't hear us. Since the door was not quite latched, we let ourselves in."

 _Yeah, I was definitely meditating on something…such as the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a handsome man can bestow,_ came the unbidden thought. _Stop that, Shane!_ she repeated to herself. Rather than lead herself down that particular path, she directed Oliver to the wood polish she had purchased. Oliver rolled his eyes, gave her a wry look, removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves, and joined Norman in polishing the library furniture.

The four worked steadily for an hour, at which time Shane's cell phone startled her out of her musings. The display was an unknown local number so – worried it might be Steve calling from his hotel – she picked up the offending device and cautiously held it to her ear.

"Hello?" She spoke lowly so as not to alert the others that she was on the phone.

"Shane McKinney, please," came an unfamiliar gentleman's voice.

Confused, Shane glanced up at the doorway to the library from which Oliver, Rita, and Norman had exited, having heard the phone ring. "Uh, yes, I am Shane _McInerney_ ," she replied, rolling her eyes at Oliver, who chuckled.

"Of-of course you are," the gentleman stammered. "Well, this is Dave from Howard Lorton furniture. I understand you have a special order for your…library, is it? I'm here to take the measurements."

"Oh! Of course! I wasn't expecting you until later, so I was just confused," Shane pointed out.

"I know. I'm sorry if this is a bad time, but I have an appointment this evening that can't be put off. I can come back another day if that would be better for you," he explained.

"No, it's fine," Shane sighed inwardly, moving to open the front door. "We were just finishing up with our clean-up anyhow," she finished as she stepped aside to let him in.

A tall man with a tool belt and coveralls embroidered with the name of the furniture store on one side and "Dave" on the other entered. "Howdy, folks," he announced, seeing Norman, Oliver, and Rita staring at him.

They waved, Oliver glancing at Shane with a curious look on his face. "These are my co-workers," she gestured. "They're here to help me set up the house. The library is right through here." Shane led the man to the library, showed him what she would like to be done and where, then left him to his measuring while she returned to the kitchen where her friends were still assembled with confused looks on their faces, maintaining visual contact with Dave's progress.

"Uh, Ms. McInerney," Oliver began. "Uh, what, I mean, who…" he gestured at the library.

"I _think_ what he means," Rita clarified for her momentarily-speechless section leader, "is who is that man and what is he doing in the library?"

"Precisely," Oliver affirmed, nodding. "Just yesterday you were telling me you did not wish to change anything in the library since doing so would compromise the period integrity of the room."

"That's correct." Shane responded. "I am not changing anything regarding the style of the library. What I am having done is to see if an insert can be done _behind_ the bookshelves," she explained.

"Oh, you mean, like a hidden room?" Rita queried excitedly.

"Why would you want a hidden room _inside_ your hidden room?" Norman asked, head tilted.

Shane sighed again. She had been doing that a lot lately. "It's not really a hidden room. I just would like to see if a wet bar or something can be concealed behind the bookshelves, to be brought out when I have company over."

She spent a few more minutes explaining her plans, looking up when Dave came back through the doorway.

"All done," he announced. "It shouldn't be a problem to get it fitted up and built with the specs we have and the style you want. It'll be ready and delivered with the rest of your furniture."

"Thank you," Shane said sincerely, walking him out. Checking the time, she noted that it was not quite 11:30 AM. "I'm getting hungry," she announced to her colleagues, grabbing her purse. "What do you say we go for an early lunch, or maybe a Sunday brunch?"

"Yes!" agreed Norman enthusiastically. "I'm starving!"

Rita nodded, too. Oliver, grinning wryly and shaking his head in amusement, asked, "Where should we go?"

"The Mailbox Grille said that they were going to do a Sunday Brunch buffet today," Norman pointed out. When everybody else agreed, Oliver led the way to his car, automatically holding open the door for Shane.

"Oh! I brought my car, though," she mentioned, pointing to her rental.

"We are just going to lunch, Ms. McInerney," Oliver pointed out. "I'm bringing us back afterwards."

"I had only planned on working a half day today, Oliver," she explained. "I kind of wanted to spend some time in the spa this afternoon, honestly." _Oh, I hope Rita doesn't pick up on the fact that I am not mentioning my date with Steve and mention it for me._ Luckily, her friend was already in the car talking to Norman and had not heard her conversation with Oliver. She ignored the part of her brain that kept asking **why** she cared whether Oliver knew about her love life – or lack thereof – at all.

"Then I'll bring you back after lunch to pick up your car," Oliver replied, smirking.

"You are impossible!" Shane announced good-naturedly, climbing into the front seat and allowing Oliver to close the door behind her before rounding the front of the vehicle.

"Mmm," Oliver assented cheerfully as he angled behind the steering wheel. "So you keep pointing out." _I notice, Lord, that although she_ _ **says**_ _I am impossible – quite often, in fact – she does so with a smile and does not argue the same way she does in other situations. I wonder if this is her way of conceding that she has no valid comeback?_

The 20-minute drive to the Mailbox Grille was done in relative silence, interrupted by an occasional comment from Norman or Rita. Once there, they sat in their usual booth at the back and within minutes their waitress was placing their coffees in front of them.

"What can I get you folks today?"

"Oh, I believe we are all going to partake of the brunch buffet this time," Oliver suggested, eyebrows raised at his colleagues, who all nodded.

They ate their meals, chatting companionably about work and the few things that still needed to be done in Shane's home.

"I think just the foyer and the library need to be finished, then we'll be completely done with the first floor," Shane commented.

"Except for cleaning up in the living room and bath rooms and foyer," Rita reminded her friend.

"Yes, except for those," Shane laughed.

"And what is there to do on the, uh, the second floor?" Oliver inquired, slightly uneasily.

"Not much," Shane replied, taking a sip of her latte. "We'll be removing the carpet in the bedrooms and hallway, replacing it with hardwood, painting the walls, staining the wood trim and the bookshelves…and I think that's it. Oh, and refreshing the fireplace surround in my bedroom."

"Are we installing the same heating coils under the hardwood upstairs as we did under the flooring in the kitchen and bathrooms?" Norman asked.

Shane snapped her fingers, reaching into her bag to pull out her tablet. "Yes! Thank you for reminding me, Norman. Let me just add that to my list so I don't forget…there. All done." Shane placed her tablet back into her bag then slid out of the booth to go pay the bill. Norman, Rita, and Oliver followed her, Oliver holding the door open as his colleagues preceded him out of the building.

Several hours later, as Shane was putting the finishing touches on her hair and makeup for her date with Steve, she started slightly when she realized that Oliver had forgotten to take her back to her house after brunch to retrieve her car.

 _Oh, well, I suppose it isn't the end of the world,_ she told herself. _He would have been picking me up for work tomorrow morning, anyhow, and we'll be going to my house with Norman and Rita after work, so the only real difference is that I am walking or taking a cab to and from the restaurant tonight. Wait, where_ _ **are**_ _we going tonight? Did Steve ever mention?_

She checked her phone to see if Steve had called while she had been in the sauna or the spa that afternoon. He hadn't called, but he had sent a two-word text: _Montaldo's 4:30PM._

 _Ugh, that is so typical of Steve! No "How was your day?" No "I've missed you." Not even a full sentence requesting that I meet him at a specific place and time._ Shaneshut the door to her suite and glanced at the time. 3:45 PM.

"It's a nice night," Shane murmured as she descended the grand staircase, clicking out of the text message and into the web browser. "Maybe I can walk to the restaurant if Montaldo's is close enough by." She typed in the restaurant name and an address in South Denver popped up on her screen. "No go," she sighed, approaching the front desk.

"Good afternoon, Shane," Beth smiled at her. "How are things going with your house?"

"Hi Beth," Shane replied. "They're going great. I think we're right on schedule, so hopefully by the end of next week I'll be moving in."

"That's great!" Beth exclaimed before turning to her computer. "I assume you came to the desk with a request? What can I do for you?"

"Can you call me a cab?" Shane inquired. "My rental was left at my house this afternoon and I need to be at Montaldo's in South Denver by 4:30."

"Montaldo's, huh?" Beth grinned slyly. "Of course I'm happy to call you a cab – although it surprises me greatly that, after having picked you up and brought you home every day for weeks now, your gentleman friend has requested you meet him somewhere-"

"Oh, Oliver's not a 'gentleman friend'," Shane cut in hurriedly. "I mean, he is most assuredly a gentleman, and I suppose you could call him a friend, but we work together and he's helping me with my house, and that's it-"

"-but at this time of the day, it could be 45 minutes or longer before a cab arrives," Beth finished pointedly when Shane paused a moment.

"Oh." Shane sighed. "Maybe I can request a ride from a ridesharing company. Does Uber service the Denver area?" She clicked over to the app on her phone.

"Actually, it does," Beth stated brightly. "And I understand from several guests that it is faster than traditional cab services. It's such a funny name, though. I wonder where it comes from?"

"It's Germanic in origin," Shane responded distractedly, typing in her request. "It means 'over' or 'across', and that is my Oliverism for the day. Ha! 3 minutes away! I'll just wait for it outside. Thanks, Beth!"

"You're welcome!" Beth answered as Shane rushed off, then added, lower and to herself, "Now, what is an Oliverism?"

Thirty minutes later, Shane arrived at Montaldo's. She put a tip for her driver into the Uber app on her phone, then entered the restaurant.

"Good evening," the hostess stated. "How can I help you?"

"Hi," Shane answered, looking around. "I think I might be a little early. Reservation for Steven Merrick?"

"Of course. Mr. Merrick hasn't arrived yet, but we have his table ready, if you'd like to be seated?"

Shane agreed, and soon was sitting at a table near the wall with a glass of lemon water and a white wine in front of her. She refused an appetizer and placed a piece of bread from the complimentary basket of bread and rolls onto her plate. Rather than eating, however, she nervously tore it until it was a crumbled mess on her bread plate. Fifteen minutes went by, then thirty, then forty-five, and still no Steve. Unbidden, Rita's words from that morning came back to Shane's mind. _Three MONTHS?! Shane!…But you've been in Denver for almost a month now…It sounds like you know exactly where you stand with him, Shane…I think maybe – just maybe – it's time for you to start thinking about what_ _ **Shane**_ _really wants for her life instead of what everybody_ _ **else**_ _wants instead._

A few minutes later Shane stood up, intending to leave and call an Uber to take her back to her hotel, when Steve finally showed up, nearly an hour after their arranged start time.

"Hello, Beautiful!" Steve announced exuberantly, squeezing Shane around her middle and planting a hard, wet kiss on her cheek.

Surreptitiously wiping her cheek, Shane sat back down and ordered another glass of wine. Steve requested a scotch on the rocks. "Steve, you're late," Shane pointed out, once the waiter had gone to put in their drink orders.

"Only a few minutes, Shane. It doesn't really matter. I had a heck of a time getting here from the Hyatt Regency. Traffic and all, you know how it is. Anyhow, I'm starving. Let's eat!"

 _Has he_ _ **always**_ _talked down to me as if I were a child?_ Shane wondered inwardly, checking her phone under the table. _I mean, why is it that_ _ **my**_ _time doesn't matter but_ _ **his**_ _time is so important that nobody dare waste it?_

She was so busy ranting in her head that she didn't even notice that Steve had ordered her meal for her, not bothering to ask what she would like, or even if she would like to look at the offerings on the menu.

Steve was busy checking emails and messages on his phone, so Shane continued to tear apart the rolls in the bread basket until their food came, at which time Steve transferred his phone to his left hand, continuing to check messages, and began to eat his meal with his right.

Shane pushed the food around her plate for twenty minutes, at which time she excused herself and ran to the ladies' room. While there, she ordered an Uber to pick her up and received the notification that the driver was fifteen minutes away. Holding her head high and feeling freer and more peaceful than she had since Steve had first called her the morning before, she headed back out to the table in time to hear Steve say, "No dessert, thank you. My girlfriend and I have a flight to catch in a couple hours."

Furious, Shane stormed back to the table. "What did you say?" she demanded angrily.

"That we have a flight to catch. I'm taking you home, Shane," Steve replied confidently.

Shane shook her head in disbelief. "Who said I would go with you?" she inquired incredulously. "I don't recall being **asked** if I would like to go anywhere with you other than to dinner, which you showed up for **an hour** late!"

"An hour?" Steve scoffed. "Don't you think you're exaggerating just a little?"

"No, I do not," Shane answered stonily. "The text you sent me said 'Montaldo's 4:30PM'. You showed up at 5:37, without even having the decency to call or text that you were going to be so late from a hotel that is on Tufts Ave, just **two blocks** away."

"So I was a little late to dinner. It isn't a big deal. I still love you, Shane," Steve responded smoothly, not hearing the muffled snorts coming from a couple at the next table.

"The big deal is that my time is **every bit** as important as yours, Steve. I have a news flash for you," she announced. "I **like** Denver! I like my job, I like the people I work with," Oliver's face flashed through her mind momentarily before she finished with, "and I **adore** the cute little house I just bought! Go home. Don't come back, or…what do you always say to me? Oh, that's right: 'Don't call me, I'll call you'."

"So, wait, are you breaking up with me?" Steve demanded. "I don't believe this. **You** …are breaking up…with **me**?!"

"I guess I am," Shane shrugged, standing up when her phone buzzed that her driver was approaching. "Goodbye, Steve." She glanced at the couple at the next table who were giving her approving nods, smiled briefly, and walked out of the restaurant just as her Uber driver pulled up.

25 minutes later she entered the lobby of the Brown Palace and, rather than return to her room, sat down in the lobby and ordered herself a Manhattan. She was still nursing it ten minutes later when she heard a soft, "Mind if I join you?" from a voice she knew all too well.

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 **A/N: Well, there it is…and it's a long(ish) one, too! Who do you think is asking to join her?**

 **Just a side note…I'm working from home now, so it's easier for me to get a few snippets of time during the day to work on my stories, but they won't be coming out as rapidly as they once did. I think I've been working on this chapter a few minutes here and there every workday for three weeks. I'll work on it as often as I can, of course, but just so that if a few weeks pass and a new chapter hasn't come out, know that I am working on it, but I might be a little busy at work.**


	4. A Riddle, Wrapped in a Mystery

**A/N: Hey folks! Just here to remind you that the standard disclaimer applies: All rights to any names, situations, or dialogue that you might recognize belong exclusively to the lovely and talented genius of Martha Williamson. I am just along for the ride, and bringing my imagination with me. We are beginning this chapter where the last one left off: it is Sunday evening, Shane has broken up with longtime boyfriend Steve and has returned to the Brown Palace, where someone has asked to join her in a drink.**

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Sunday, July 12, 2014

6:45 PM

 _25 minutes later she entered the lobby of the Brown Palace and, rather than return to her room, sat down in the lobby and ordered herself a Manhattan. She was still nursing it ten minutes later when she heard a soft, "Mind if I join you?" from a voice she knew all too well._

"You are always welcome to join me," she replied, glancing up into the face that had been invading her thoughts with increasing regularity.

Oliver sat down, ordered himself a Manhattan as well, then gazed over at Shane. "Do you want to talk about it?" he finally asked, thanking the waitress as she deposited his drink in front of him.

"Talk about what?" she retorted.

"Whatever has you gazing into that whiskey as if you were drowning and it were your only lifeline," he replied dryly, ignoring the sharp tone to her answer.

She sighed. "No, I wouldn't like to talk about it, Oliver. At least," she added, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "Not yet," she finished.

"Whenever you're ready," he nodded in response, "I'm here to listen."

They sipped in silence for a few minutes, then Shane asked abruptly. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Your car," he replied succinctly. "It occurred to me as I was leaving evening service that I had never returned you to your home to collect your vehicle, so I drove here and entered, intending to call your room from a house phone, but I saw you sitting here instead."

"Yeah, that occurred to me earlier when I was getting ready to head out to dinner, myself," Shane responded wryly. "But then I realized that you probably would have been picking me up for work in the morning anyhow, and we would have been heading to my house after work to continue with the modifications."

Oliver nodded in acknowledgment of her reasoning, but something she had said hit him. "You realized as you were going to dinner that you didn't have your vehicle?" he asked.

When she inclined her head slightly, he touched his forehead. "So…have you eaten anything?"

She hesitated, recalling the previous two hours and the fact that – although she had torn apart quite a few pieces of bread – she hadn't actually _eaten_ anything. "Come to think of it, I haven't," she finally replied, laughing.

"Oh my goodness, Ms. McInerney!" Oliver exclaimed, standing up and leaving a few bills to cover the cost of their drinks. "I was just on my way to get something to eat, myself. Would you like to join me, then I would be happy to return you to your home to retrieve your vehicle?"

Shane grinned. "That sounds lovely, Oliver! At the risk of sounding like Norman, I'm STARVING!"

Both chuckled as Oliver motioned for Shane to precede him out of the hotel lobby. He held the passenger door open for her as she slid in, then rounded the front of the Jaguar and slid in beside her.

Shane's phone rang just as Oliver was pulling into traffic. Worried it might be Steve calling to try and change her mind, she silenced the ringtone and glanced at the display, surprised when she saw the display.

"It's…the DLO," she stated, pressing the answer button and placing the phone on speaker so Oliver could hear.

"Shane McInerney," she announced, once the line had connected.

"Darling!" came the enthusiastic voice at the other end. Shane and Oliver exchanged amused glances. "I'm so glad somebody finally answered their phone!"

"Good evening, Theresa," Shane giggled. "Isn't it a little late for you to be at the Post Office on a Sunday?"

"Well I came straight here from practice so that I could tell you all my news! It never occurred to me you wouldn't be here!"

 _ **Practice?**_ Shane mouthed to Oliver, who muffled a chuckle and returned his eyes to the road.

"Oh, well…what's your news, Theresa?" Shane asked, tilting her head back and shaking with laughter.

"You won't believe it! I went to try out for The Wizard of Oz at the local community Children's Theater, and you'll never guess what happened!" Theresa squealed.

"You…got a part in The Wizard of Oz?" Shane guessed, shrugging at Oliver.

"No! Well, yes, or no, not really," Theresa waffled.

"Not really?" Shane inquired. "Did they not tell you if you have a part?"

"I believe what Ms. Capodiamonte is trying to say is that she has been awarded an understudy position, am I correct?" Oliver interjected.

"Yes! Exactly, Oliver, darling!" Theresa replied. "I am the understudy for the Good Witch of the North and for the Wicked Witch of the West! **TWO** parts!"

"That's great, Theresa! Congratulations!" Shane responded enthusiastically.

"Absolutely," Oliver agreed. "We are very happy for you."

"I was just wondering if the two of you, as well as Norman and Rita, of course, would like to…be my guests in the audience on opening night? If I am able to perform, of course," she stipulated quickly.

Shane glanced over at Oliver and nodded, allowing him to answer. They both knew the question was really directed at him, anyhow. "Of course we would all be delighted to see you perform, Ms. Capodiamonte," he assured the site director.

After they had hung up with their boss, Shane glanced out of the car. "Uh, Oliver…when you asked if I would join you for dinner, I didn't think we would need to take a **train** to the restaurant!" she joked, noting the architecture of Denver's Union Station.

"Alas, Ms. McInerney, there will be no railway-based travel in our immediate future," Oliver returned good-naturedly, before leaning over conspiratorially. "Do you trust me?"

Shane laughed, remembering the other occasions that those words had been spoken between them. "Of course I trust you," she played along. "What kind of question is that?"

Oliver nodded and exited the vehicle, joined soon by Shane. He led her into the historic train station then to a restaurant within called Stoic & Genuine.

"This is a new restaurant," Oliver explained as they were seated on the patio overlooking the fountain. "I believe they opened two or three days ago, is that correct?" he directed at the hostess as she handed them their menus.

"Three, sir," she replied, smiling. She pointed out a few of her favorites on the menu then left them alone to decide, informing them that their waiter would be along shortly.

"How is it possible that you know every restaurant in the Denver Metro Area?" Shane inquired laughingly. "Even the brand-new ones, apparently."

"Oh, well, I learned of this particular restaurant quite by accident, in fact. It was at the department head meeting on Friday and Lester Kimsicle mentioned that he had brought a young lady here the night before but left because the kampachi sashimi 'wasn't even cooked!' and that the gazpacho was 'too liquid'. Apparently, he likes his 'salsa on the chunkier side', and that he had to pour his own cocktail over some 'cloudy ice'? I figured the fact that Lester didn't appreciate the food is probably a point in the restaurant's favor," Oliver explained wryly.

Shane, who had been taking a sip of her water during his story, stifled a laugh mid-sip, resulting in a coughing fit. "Oliver, you can't _do_ that to me while I am drinking something!" she exclaimed laughingly once she had recovered from her cough.

The waiter came up and asked if they had had a chance to glance at the menu yet.

"Yes, we have," Oliver replied, winking at Shane. "We would like to try the kampachi sashimi-"

Shane stifled her laughter into her napkin, her shoulders shaking with the effort.

"-the gazpacho – can we get that split into two cups, please? – and two or three other starters and/or sides that you feel we should try."

"Yeah, we trust _your_ judgment," Shane squeaked, dabbing the tears from the corners of her eyes.

"Of course," the waiter, Andy, said. "What about beverages? Can I interest you folks in a granita cocktail, perhaps?"

"That sounds wonderful," Oliver agreed, stifling a smile when he realized what the "cloudy ice" was that Lester had spoken of. He handed the menus back to Andy, saying, "We will trust your judgment on those, as well."

"Fabulous," Andy replied, scribbling in his notepad. "I'll be right back with your cocktails."

A few minutes later, Andy returned with two glasses filled with fluffy, icy granitas and two individual-sized carafes with the cocktail fixings. "I have a Strawberry Cough for the lady," he mentioned, winking at Shane as she laughed again. He placed a martini glass filled with a pink-colored granita in front of her. "It is strawberry-mint granita, and we are pouring over the cocktail, which has Patron, Aperol, Combier, and lime," he finished with a flourish, pouring the contents of one of the carafes over the granita.

"And for the gentleman, we have a Kid Tested, Mother Approved," Andy continued, placing another martini glass on the table, this one filled with a light green granita. "It is a cantaloupe mint Chartreuse granita poured over with a cocktail made of gin, Combier, Dolin Blanc, and grapefruit bitters."

"They sound wonderful," Shane stated, inhaling the aromas given off as the cocktails had hit the frozen treats. "And they smell _amazing_!"

"And, compliments of the chef, we have a Sardine Bruschetta with a potato aioli and the Crispy Cod Cake with a tomato sauce. These are on our Happy Hour menu, but Happy Hour ended at 6 and we do not keep these overnight." He placed two platters down on the center of the table and two plates for Oliver and Shane to use, then straightened. "I'll be back shortly with the rest of your order."

"Thank you, Andy, this looks wonderful," Oliver stated. "And please thank the chef for us…that was very kind of her."

Oliver and Shane were famished and managed to polish off both the bruschetta and the cod cake before Andy returned a short time later, his tray laden down with various platters and dishes.

"You finished the Cod Cake and the Bruschetta, excellent," he remarked, stacking the empty plates and putting them aside. "I hope you enjoyed them?"

"They were delicious!" Shane replied as Oliver nodded in agreement.

"They were," he echoed.

"Fabulous!" Andy announced, picking up a long platter. "Here we have the Kampachi Sashimi with corn custard and a salsa verde, and the Tomato Gazpacho split into two separate portions." He placed two bowls of the chilled soup on the table.

"In addition to that," he added, "I have taken the liberty of ordering you some of the most popular items on the menu as well as some of my personal favorites. We have the Shrimp Ceviche with a watermelon salsa, the Lobster Deviled Eggs, the Tomato Salad with Green Goddess dressing, the Potato Dumplings in herby brown butter, and the Thai Green Curry Mussels with sourdough bread. Please enjoy."

"Thank you, very much," Oliver replied, glancing over the sea of plates covering the table.

"Wow!" Shane laughed once Andy had returned into the restaurant. "This all looks amazing!"

"I have to try the gazpacho first," Oliver mentioned, moving some plates around to place his bowl of the soup in front of him.

"That seems reasonable," Shane assented, moving the dishes on her side of the table in a similar fashion.

The two colleagues spent the next 30 minutes in easy companionship, sampling each of the dishes before them and commenting on them all.

"Ooh, those mussels have a kick!" Shane giggled at one point.

"The Deviled Eggs are unparalleled," Oliver commented at another.

After dinner, Oliver paid the bill and the two returned to the Jaguar. "May I ask you a question, Ms. McInerney?" Oliver broached tentatively as he held the door open for her.

"Of course," Shane replied, turning to look at him.

"You may tell me it is none of my business, but when you first came here, I sensed there was something that was upsetting you regarding your father," he posited.

"Which I told you about later that week, if I remember correctly," Shane supplied pragmatically.

"Yes." Oliver ducked his head in agreement. "Then, there was something else that was causing you distress, which I believe to be in regards to your mother."

She looked at him steadily then slid into the passenger's seat, at which point he nodded in acknowledgment that she wasn't ready to divulge that particular piece of information. "But tonight," he continued after he had entered the vehicle and started it up, "when I saw you in the lobby of your hotel, you looked…different than you had on previous occasions. Still sad, but more reflective and contemplative than the quiet melancholia that has previously surrounded you. And this evening during our meal, you seemed, uh, I don't know. Almost lighthearted. Freer, somehow, if that makes any sense."

"It does," she grinned. "There's a reason for that, which has absolutely nothing to do with either of my parents, but which I am also not ready to talk about at this time. I promise, however, that if the time ever comes that you _need_ to know, then I will tell you."

"I appreciate that," he responded sincerely.

"You are also correct in supposing there is something about my mom that's been bothering me," she admitted softly. "But I'm not ready to talk about that yet, either, and am fairly sure I won't be ready for some time. When I _am_ ready, however, I will tell you," she promised faithfully.

"Fair enough," he chuckled. "Whenever you are ready to talk, I'll be ready to listen."

He pulled his car to the curb behind Shane's and placed the vehicle in park. Shane opened the door, then turned back for a moment. "Thank you for dinner, Oliver," she stated sincerely. "And for everything else."

"My pleasure," he responded feelingly. "Good night, Ms. McInerney. We will see each other in the morning."

"Good night, Oliver," she returned before exiting the vehicle and closing the door behind her. Oliver waited until she was safely in her vehicle and had pulled away from the curb before removing his own from park and heading toward his home.

Shane entered her hotel suite fifteen minutes later, kicked off her shoes, and settled on the sofa with a well-worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. She had only read a couple chapters of the saga between Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, however, before her suite phone rang.

Curious as to who would be calling her after eight on a Sunday evening, Shane cautiously put the phone to her ear. "Hello?" she answered, half-expecting it to be Steve calling from the plane before remembering that he likely didn't know which hotel she was staying at.

"Shane, hi!" came Rita's bubbly voice from the other end of the line. Shane slowly let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

"Hi Rita," she giggled in relief. "What's up?"

"I was just calling to see how your date went!" the brunette exclaimed.

"Well," Shane took a deep breath before responding. "It didn't go very well at all. Or actually, maybe it went really well. Depends on how you look at things, I guess." She laughed fully then, the first genuine laugh she had had in a very long time.

At Rita's confused, "Huh?" Shane elaborated. She explained all about Steve having been over an hour late, then how he had blown that fact off as trivial, and how reflecting on Rita's own words from that morning had led the blonde to breaking up with her boyfriend in the restaurant and the looks of approval she had seen on the faces of the people at the next table.

"Wow!" Rita sighed after Shane had finished her story. "Well, I'm sorry your date went so poorly, Shane, but you don't seem overly upset by it."

"I'm not," Shane chuckled. "I feel _so free_ , Rita, I can't even begin to describe it! When I walked out of that restaurant, it was as if the weight of the entire world had been lifted from me. I had been _dreading_ that date for an entire day and couldn't say anything to anyone!"

"Aww," Rita sympathized. "You can tell me anything, Shane, you know that. But, hey, so you didn't even _eat_ while you were out? You must be starving!"

"I was starving," Shane admitted ruefully. "And that was not helped by the fact that I had had a glass and a half of wine to drink at the restaurant and a cocktail in the hotel lobby when I returned, but then Oliver stopped by, and-"

Rita sat bolt upright when she heard that. "Oliver was there? What time was that? I was getting some strange phone calls from the DLO around six o'clock-ish and thought that maybe he had been calling for some late weekend overtime, so I ignored the calls, and-"

Shane realized what Rita had been talking about and interrupted. "Oh, no Rita! I don't think that was Oliver calling. I got a call on my cell phone around 7 or so. It was Theresa calling, and it sounded like she had been trying to call us all for some time."

"Theresa?" Rita inquired. "Theresa Capodiamonte? What did _she_ want?"

"Oh, you know Theresa," Shane hedged. "She always takes awhile to get to the point, but I guess she just wanted to let us all know that she had been cast as an understudy for two parts at a real theater, and to ask if the four of us would be willing to be in the audience when and if she were to perform."

"Oh, of course!" Rita gushed excitedly. "That's so great! But, wait, what theater? And what play? And what parts?"

"She's the understudy for the good and wicked witches in the children's community theater production of _The Wizard of Oz_ ," Shane replied succinctly.

"Oh, that's so great! Does she need help with her lines again like she did with the Lendimer Manor production?" Rita gasped eagerly.

Shane laughed again. "Honestly, I don't know, Rita. We didn't talk about that, although I suppose we can ask her tomorrow. She just told me and Oliver about the play and that she was an understudy, and then she invited us to come see her perform, then she hung up and Oliver and I arrived at Union Station."

Rita blinked twice at that statement. "Wait, you're at your hotel right now, so…why were you and Oliver at the train station?" She gasped again. "Did Oliver take a train trip?"

"No," Shane smiled, shaking her head. "We went to dinner."

"On the train?" Rita asked.

"In the station," Shane explained. "New restaurant called…Stoic & Genuine. Seems like they specialize in seafood."

"That's funny," Rita remarked thoughtfully. "You had a date tonight to have dinner with someone you've known for a long time, but ended up having dinner with a gentleman you've only known a month."

"But I don't really _know_ either of them very well now, do I?" Shane asked. "They are each of them, in their own ways, 'a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma'."

"Winston Churchill, 1939," Rita announced automatically, then added, "I can't speak of your ex since I've obviously never met him, but Oliver…he's cautious about the people he gets to know because, deep down, he's afraid of being hurt. I think. I mean, I don't know all the details, but, well…"

"His wife," Shane supplied quietly. _What_ _ **was**_ _she thinking, leaving someone like Oliver? That Paris chick is crazy! Oliver's better off, not that he'd ever acknowledge that._ "I get it. Listen, Rita, I'd love to chat some more, but I am bushed!"

"Oh, yeah, of course!" Rita agreed. "Have a good night!"

"Good night, Rita." Shane slowly replaced the handset on the cradle, picked up her book, and went into the bedroom, shutting the light off in the living room on the way.

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 **A/N: Yay! Earlier than expected! This chapter went easier to write than the last one, although I had absolutely no intention of spending so much time on this particular evening in the storyline. Please read and let me know what you think! Up next: Shane's move-in date, plus the appraiser for the library, and soon we will begin seeing the groundwork laid for the actual episode that this story covers, "To Whom it May Concern".**


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